


i really need to study but your face is really pretty and god i forgot what i was reading

by marciscaspar



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Ahhh I really dont know much about the french educational system after high school so, Also Lucas is kinda a dumbass, Alternate Universe - College/University, College Student Eliott, College Student Lucas, Fluff, Librarian Eliott Demaury, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, its based on the american one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2020-06-30 09:50:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19850656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marciscaspar/pseuds/marciscaspar
Summary: Lucas really shouldn't have procrastinated this, the essay was assigned three weeks ago, he should have started it then. But, he didnt, and now he's here in the library trying to scrap together a five page paper on cell modification and mutation.Also, who gave the librarian the permission to be that attractive





	1. monday.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh so I this was really a fun project for me to do and lets home that I wont scrap this fic after part 2

As a med student, Lucas should have understood that procrastination was detrimental to his education and waiting until the last minute to start his essay would damage his mental health as well. But here he is, on a Monday morning, trying to highlight whatever the fuck he believes is important enough to be included in his five-page research paper on cell modification and cell mutation. The essay was assigned three weeks ago, but three weeks ago Lucas had planned to get drunk and hang out with the boys all week because really, his other classes hadn’t assigned numerous tasks, so, Lucas could do his essay later. 

Two weeks down the line and many warning texts from Imane later (that he chose to ignore because he was drunk off his ass), he wakes up hungover to a Remind from his biology professor reminding students that if they want him to look over their paper, they need to send it by Wednesday, catalyzing him to shoot out of his bed, throw out a hoodie and shoes, and sprint to the library, backpack in hand and Yann at his heels.

So here he is on a Monday morning, the caffeine in his system already fading and the crash that follows slowly preparing its attack, while he stares at numerous rows of the Bembo font trying to decipher what any of it means and how he’s going to write this paper in a week. 

Yes, Lucas is royally fucked and he knows it. 

“How long do you think you’re going to be here?”

“Yann, I legitimately have no idea how I’m going to do this.”

“You’re dinner will be wrapped up the fridge. You’ve got lunch though, right?”

Lucas distractedly pulls out a granola bar and holds it next to his head, putting it back in his hoodie pocket a second later, all focus strictly directed to the various paragraphs in his biology textbook. 

Yann lets out a soft exhale and leans back further in the wooden chair positioned opposite Lucas’, who has now placed his pointer onto the page of the textbook, moving it horizontally along with the words he was reading, his eyes following both of them. His takes in the furrow of his brows and the slight frown on his lip, Lucas' face going from confusion to comprehension, back to confusion, and then ultimately frustration before his finger moves back to where it started. Yann smiles at him amused, shaking his head before slamming his hands softly, so to not make too much of a sound on the chairs wooden armrests, the material only releasing a slight squeak as Yann gets up. 

All of this only makes Lucas' eyes flicker up at him for a second before they fall back onto the pages, dragging his finger along with the pace once again. Yann rolls his eyes playfully at this before he grabs his bag and slings it over his shoulder, walking around the table, Lucas conventionally sitting on a chair near the edge of it, so he can reach Lucas side, patting his back once before heading towards the door, a quick “later” thrown in the air at some point, Lucas isn’t paying attention. He is pretty sure a murderer could hold a knife against throat at any moment and Lucas probably wouldn’t notice; he would be too busy trying to write down notes on the difference between prokaryotic and eukaryotic cells to even consider the prospect of death. 

Honestly, Lucas hoped that by the time he entered college that his studious attitude and educational ambition would increase, and in some way it did, since he had paid thousands of dollars just to attend four years of it—which he’ll have to do again for medical school, which roughly translates to Lucas being homeless for the years after—but at the same time, he is still partying and still hooking up on Friday nights instead of studying, which is reasonable for a Friday, Saturday, and Sunday even; but, when its Monday night and he has a two hour lecture at nine am the next day, another shot of an ominous pink liquid is most likely not what his body nor educational career needs. Yet, he drinks it anyway, and now he is here on a Monday morning, writing his five-page essay, making up for all the times he opted working on his assignments for cheap liquor. 

*** 

By one pm, Lucas is pretty sure he can recite numerous facts about prokaryotic cells in pig-Latin while doing a handstand, write it forwards, backward, upside down, and in fucking Korean, but he had no idea how he is going to relate them to cell modification and mutation. Sighing, Lucas pushes his chair away from the table, creating space between him and the textbook, placing his elbows on his knees and rubs his eyes, physically needing to distance himself for the book. He comprehends what the assignment directs and what pieces of information he needs, it is just that he cannot find the direct quotations, things that specifically support his statement, not just general concepts, which the pages can’t give him—

Reference book.

He needs a reference book. 

Lucas is honestly surprised his groan was not any louder, his stupidity and self-hatred flowing through his veins like goddamn heroin because of course, he could have used a reference book. Instead, he has wasted three hours fumbling through his textbook, trying to piece together facts to sound informative. 

He pushes himself out of the seat, trying to avoid making eye contact with other students as he walks pasts the various tables and towards the shelves. He scans the various walnut bookshelves placed a few feet apart, facing each other, stopping when he sees a plaque on one of the shelves sides, black ink on a gold background that spells out “Pro—Que”, eyes glossing over the spines of the books there, looking for any titles related to prokaryotes, eukaryotes, cell mutation, or cell modification. But he finds nothing, which has to be impossible. He looks left and right, quickly looking over the spines of the books residing on their respective shelves, yet still finds nothing. That cannot be possible; this is a fucking library. 

Unless it is on the top shelf. 

Now, Lucas doesn’t believe he’s short, 5 foot 6 inches is not short, but for some reason, this library has incredibly tall shelves. He sees a stepping stool out of the corner of his eye, grey, plastic, and most likely sturdy, but he will not use it. Lucas is a nineteen-year-old college student, not a seventy-nine-year-old petite, French woman whose back cannot bend at an angle greater than 15 degrees. His pride won’t let him.

No, it’s not happening. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t have to, because Lucas quickly sees a bush of brown hair pass by, only a glimpse, most of its body past Lucas peripheral vision, but thank god for its bushy hair. Turning his body, Lucas starts to head the direction he saw the figure walk towards, making sure to kick the standing stool lightly as he passed by. 

“Umm, excuse me—“Lucas quickly remembers that he is in a library and him speaking at a normal volume translates to blatantly loud in this facility, so he cuts himself off, adjusts, and speaks again as he rounds the corner. “Excuse me, could you help—“

Then, he cuts off again, but not because he is at an inappropriate volume level. No, the problem this time is that his brain may have short-circuited. 

At first, all he had seen was a tall figure with broad shoulders, but any person can have those physical traits and not make Lucas’ body physically stop moving; however, this is not the case. The bushy, spikey hair and broad shoulders belonged to a boy, a boy whose eyes couldn’t decide if they wanted to be green, blue, or grey, so they chose all three; a boy whose jaw cut sharply, defining his face while also complimenting his prominent cheekbones. His face and tall stature screamed raw beauty, to the point where the voice most likely became hoarse; yet, that hoarse voice became quieter, and whispers the fact that the boy has a lightness to his presence, softening the cuts and lines with a dusty warmth, all of it wrapped in a black sweater and matching dress pants, and—holy shit, how long has Lucas been looking at him?

“Yes?” The boy says, looking down at Lucas expectantly, but still with those soft, techno-colored eyes, and Lucas has to put in an extraneous amount of effort to remember why he called this man in the first place. 

“Um, yeah sorry, I just—can you see if this book is on a shelf?”

“This book?”

“Well, there’s a book ad I think it’s on that shelf over there, but I’m not sure.” Lucas starts to vaguely point behind him, towards the bookshelves as he speaks, immediately stopping once he realizes how idiotic he looks doing it. 

“You think?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know.”

“Ahh, okay.” He says with a giggle, the last letter raising slightly in pitch and Lucas' heartbeats a second too fast. “Can you take me to where it is?”

“S-sure, yeah.” But Lucas pauses then, stands still and doesn’t move, and the librarian is looking at his face expectantly, giving Lucas small smiles and a little scan over his body that send Lucas fucking flying, mentally. He doesn’t need to embarrass himself in front of this hot guy. 

“Where is it?” Oh, he’s already done it. 

“R-right! Yeah, sorry, follow me.” Lucas stutters out, spinning around to hide his face from the man, cursing to himself before walking past numerous walnut shelves filled with books, back to where his problems are rooted. He glares at the plastic stool viciously when he sees it again, but ultimately stopping in front of the shelf he is referring to. “This one, top-shelf.” The man nods his head before stretching his legs and neck up slightly, placing his hand against one of the shelves for balance as he peers at the top shelf, head moving as he looks through the titles. 

“What is the book about? Or the title?”

“Something about prokaryotes.” 

The man nods and scans again, and then comes back to where he started, but this time with his eyebrows slightly furrowed and lips in a frown, scanning them again. He glances over at Lucas, confused, before going back to the shelf, eyes running over the titles before he brings his body back down, relaxing his body before he faces Lucas, shrugging softly. “I’m sorry, I can’t seem to find it.” Lucas tilts his head slightly in confusion, scoffing playfully. 

“What, does this library have no books on prokaryotes?” The man’s eyes soften at Lucas playfulness, rolling them before crossing his arms almost challengingly. 

“Of course we do. Do you know the authors' name?”

“What?”

“The authors' name.”

Lucas scrunches his forehead and nose in confusion, not understanding the relevancy of the authors' name when they were trying to look for the title of the book Lucas needs—

Then it hits him, the realization and Lucas own dumbassery. The shelves are sorted by author’s last names, not by book titles. 

He has asked the librarian to look for a book that is probably not going to be there because apparently, Lucas does not know how libraries work. He stares down at his shoes is self-realization and shock, and the librarian waits a few moments to allow Lucas to speak if he needed too, which became unfilled, prompting him to ask again.

“Do you know it?”

“The…name…”

“Of the author.”

“Yeah no, I understand that.” Lucas' voice spikes up slightly, embarrassed, and the librarian becomes confused again, eyebrows crinkling together adorably.

“Do you…not know the name of the author you’re looking for?”

Sadly, it’s stupider than that. 

“I didn’t think of the author’s name.” Lucas sighs, curling his head towards his chest slightly in embarrassment, and then the librarian tilts his chin up in question. 

“So, you walked randomly into the shelves and hoped to find a book on this very specific topic.”

“No, I had intentions.”

For a second, the librarian couldn’t decipher what Lucas intended to say, eyes scanning Lucas features and posture in an attempt to make sense of his words, a secret code too vague to decipher. But then, suddenly, his brows unknot, his eyes widen slightly, and his mouth part in realization, as if the conclusion abruptly appeared in front of him.

Then, there is a quick exhale of breath.

“Did you try to look through the shelves by book titles?”

“I—shut up.” 

“Did you really?” The librarian is giggling, his left arm holding his stomach while his right hand becomes a fist that covers his mouth, but the toothy smile still appears behind it, wide enough to stretch past it. His techno-colored eyes scrunch now, crinkles appearing at their edges and Lucas finds himself in awe. The beautiful librarian with technicolor-ed eyes and dusty brown hair is giggling, and Lucas couldn’t find any fiber in his body to be mad or even embarrassed anymore. 

“Look, I—“

“You went to first grade, right?”

“Listen!”

The giggling gets louder, and Lucas probably would have hit the stranger if he hadn’t bent into himself in laughter, only to come back when he realizes how loud he is. When he calms down, he looks at Lucas with a soft smile and Lucas feels some of his fatigue and irritation leave him. He stares at the boy for four more seconds before turning back to shelves, gesturing to them with a swift jutting of his head in their direction. 

“Are they on this shelf?”

“Possibly. Here, we’ll go to the computer.” And then the librarian turns and walks out of the shelves. Lucas follows him, staring at his broad shoulders and dusty hair once again, a few butterflies appearing in his stomach and a warm feeling growing in his chest, and his eyes take in how the tiny hairs near the back of the man’s neck curl in different directions. They get to a cube pillar in between two different shelves, each with a computer on one of its sides, and the librarian presses a button to start it up. “So, prokaryotes?”

“Yeah. That.”

He starts to type, his hands covering the computer mouse placed over a sponge pad, moving it slightly before clicking on one of its buttons. He waits a few seconds before moving to the side, looking over at Lucas and gesturing to the computer with his head. 

“Choose what you need.”

Lucas walks forward, hands in his hoodie pocket, and scans the page, eyes looking through the array of titles and digital book covers until he settles on one that has a picture of a prokaryotes cell and a eukaryotic cell on it, one of the thousands, yes, but nonetheless one. He takes his hand out of hoodie pocket and clicks on the title with the mouse, settling on the page before turning towards the librarian with pursed lips, nodding his head.

"This one?" The librarian asks him, and Lucas nods his head again. Taking his confirmation, the librarian then pulls out a pen and notepad from his pant pocket, leaning over Lucas slightly so he can read the title and the author of the book, jotting down what he sees. He looks down at his notepad for confirmation, nods his head once, and then turns towards the direction of bookshelves they just came from, silently walking back towards them. Wordlessly, Lucas follows, hands stuffed inside his pockets as both him and the man stroll through the library, stopping once they enter a section labeled Yay-Zah.

"See, author’s last name." Lucas only scoffs at the comment. 

The stop after a few more seconds of walking and the man turns to face a tall bookshelf, leaning down to a bundle of books, and running his fingers across their spines. Suddenly, his finger pauses and the librarian taps the book before pulling it out, turning it so he can look at the cover before holding it out for Lucas to grab, all done with a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“Prokaryotes versus Eukaryotes by Viktor Ziemer. Here you go.” His smile grows after he this, and Lucas knows exactly why that is, and honestly, he wants to slap him. Slap him playfully, of course. But, he feels as if any contact with the librarian will cause him to combust due to over-stimulation, and Lucas has already embarrassed himself enough. So, he takes the book from his grasp, making sure their fingers don’t brush against each other and holds it against his chest. 

“Thanks.” The librarian only smiles in return, nodding slightly before speaking.

“You’re welcome. Will that be all?”

_No, kiss me._

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Okay, I’ll be at the main desk if you need me.” And then he is walking towards Lucas, but it’s at an angle, attempting to go past him, and Lucas understands that. What he doesn’t understand, or fathoms is when the man stops when their shoulders touch, bending down slightly so his lips graze Lucas' ears and whispers “Just make sure to remember that the plaques go in order of author’s name next time.” And he does, Lucas does remember, and he wants to say that back, but, he can’t. Lucas is frozen, the man’s breath tickling his ear and leaving a buzzing sensation, as well as light feather touches of his hair against Lucas temple and upper cheek. 

He wants to respond, he does, but he can’t. 

He is frozen in the middle of walnut bookshelves, and the clench on his reference textbook gets a little bit tighter.


	2. tuesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops its been a while haha....
> 
> welp, here it is!

Introduction.

Okay, he has the introduction. Is it eye-catching? It is eye-catching enough. Does it have a good hook? One can interpret it as such if they want to.

But, considering that it’s only been one night and Lucas is legitimately writing his essay on a whim, he can say he is somewhat proud of himself. Sure, Imane has her essay completed and it is flawless, but that’s Imane; this is Lucas and Lucas has done a pretty good job so far.

He would have done better if his mind didn’t drift off to the librarian every time he took notes from his reference book, though.

Lucas looks up from his computer screen to scan the library, eyes attempting to find a familiar set of technicolored eyes and dusty hair. But, he can’t, and Lucas doesn’t know if he should be relieved or disappointed.

Disappointed because he wants to see him again.

Relived because he knows if he does, Lucas will embarrass himself once again.

So, he turns back to his computer, reading his introduction for the third time today. It isn’t horrible, he can credit himself with that, but this assignment just reminds Lucas why he is a Medical major instead of an English major. Honestly, Lucas is pretty confident that he hasn’t written a formal paper since high school, which truthfully is not long ago, but Lucas made sure to burn that information as soon as he graduated. Yes, he has written formal labs and has done lab reports for class, but writing an essay that flows smoothly while also maintaining factually correct and professional never came easily to him in high school, and college is no exception. Especially to a college student who caved and drank five beers last night even though he promised he would not.

However, he has the internet, and he could always use that.

Lucas minimizes his word document and clicks open Google, only to find himself with no connection before a pixelated dinosaur game appears on his browser. Confused and irritated, Lucas opens the connection tab on the bottom right corner of his laptop, clicking on the library’s Wi-Fi, and there, he is met with a blank white box and a request demanding him to enter the library’s password. Seriously? It is goddamn 2019 and a public area on a college campus still has private Wi-Fi?

Scoffing, Lucas rolls his eyes before opening up his word document once more, only to stare at the lonely introduction paragraph in defeat. Fuck, he had to do this.

Good thing his wardrobe this week has consisted of only hoodies, Lucas putting up the hoodie of his own, shoving his hands into its pockets before making his way around the table and to the main counter, making sure to avoid any unnecessary eye-contact from all other individuals at the library. To be fair, they all are probably too busy working on their assignments to focus on Lucas.

The main desk is a light, wooden material spanning for eight feet, Lucas would say, and has red, rounded corners and edges, made from a different wood. Across from it is the checkout desk and next to it, plus a little bit further back, is the exit: where Lucas wants to be right now. But instead, he has to go ask one of the librarians about their goddamn Wi-Fi password so Lucas can achieve a decent grade on his essay.

He rounds the last corner of bookshelves, exiting the young-adult contemporary section so he can finally get to the main desk. His gaze hasn’t left the floor for his entire walk, not wanting to risk making any unnecessary eye-contact, since it is both awkward and, in the grand scheme of things, time-consuming. But, now, he wishes he had because when he looks up from his downward gaze, his eyes encounter the same messy, brown hair he saw yesterday.

Lucas should have checked before he walked over.

The librarian, now sporting a purple turtleneck and black dress pants, from what Lucas can see, finishes placing a book on the cart next to him, and when he turns around, he immediately freezes. His eyes, techno-colored eyes, however, do not, roaming up and down Lucas frame before they land back onto Lucas's face, and a smile erupts on the man’s face. When he smiles, his cheeks become prominent, and curved lines are extending from his nose to them, allowing them to protrude fully. His eyes close slightly, and Lucas can see the faintest crinkle at the ends of his eyes, and if Lucas was not busy trying to finish his essay, he probably could have written sonnets about this man’s face. And if this action was not entirely embarrassing.

Lucas inaudibly gasps and pulls himself out of his dazed expression, eyes shifting slightly as to reel himself out of the trance he set himself in. It has only been a few seconds, so he hopes the librarian doesn’t notice, but Lucas still looks slightly adjacent to the librarian so he can stop his pounding heart and speak normally. Well, as normal as he can to a man who Lucas can still recall the feeling of his soft breath from—

“Do you know the author's name?”

That, that pulls him out of his daze completely, and Lucas lets out an offended exhale before speaking.

“Pssh, fuck you.” He replies, his words having a slight bite to them but his slight smile erasing their sting.

“Language.”

“Whatever.” Lucas looks away now, shy, his chin curling in slightly and hands pushing themselves into his hoodie pockets. By that, the librarian softly smiles at Lucas once again, eyes scanning Lucas profile before speaking.

“What do you actually need?”

“Ah, the Wi-Fi password.”

“Oh, why?”

It isn’t an embarrassing reason, nor one he should be ashamed of, really. Everyone needed a refresher at times, even if it is something as simple as essay construction.

But, still, maybe it is because Lucas is talking to the librarian that he doesn’t want to admit it because it sounds slightly childish now. He is a biology major, in university, he should know something as basic as this.

“…essay construction.” It’s quiet, very quiet, and Lucas is pretty sure that if it is not for the fact that he had said the words, he probably wouldn’t have heard him.

“Excuse me?”

“Just—what’s the Wi-Fi password.” This time Lucas’ words are abrupt and slightly harsh in tone, but honestly, that stems from his new-found embarrassment. Maybe if the man wasn’t so beautiful and made Lucas's heart speed up in beats per minute, he would have told him simply. But now, he sounds rude and irritated, and as much as he can be like that sometimes, he doesn’t want to be that towards him.

Ahhhh, god, okay.

The librarian, after Lucas prior response, hasn’t said anything, staying quiet, and Lucas mind begins to realize how bad of a reaction and tone that was. Fuck, he really didn’t want the man to think he’s a prick and hate him, not when Lucas just wanted to—

“Oh, you’re going to watch porn in the library.”

What.

“What?” Lucas head sharply turns back towards the librarian, eyes wide in shock and slight embarrassment. The librarian, on the other hand, has a hand covering his mouth to minimize the volume of his laughter, bending back slightly as he watches Lucas shocked expression, the crinkles at the edges of his eyes more present than before. He is clearly enjoying Lucas reaction, and Lucas would too, if he wasn’t on the receiving end, stuttering out a flustered: “N-no! What the hell!”

“I’m kidding; I’m kidding!” The librarian is still laughing now, wiping a tear from his eye as he quiets down his laughter, calming down from his previous state and honestly. Still, he has a smile plastered on his face, and Lucas thinks he looks beautiful. “No, but seriously, what’s up.”

After that whole interaction, Lucas has loosened up slightly, and it is almost subconscious when he takes his hoodie down, running a hand through his hair before he finally tells the librarian why he came in the first place.

“Ah, I want to watch a video on essay construction.” 

“….essay construction?” It didn’t sound mocking, it sounded more like a confirmation.

“Yup.”

“Oh, okay, sure. But, I’m going to have to type it in for you; confidentiality reasons.” The librarian shrugs after he says this, and Lucas eyebrow’s scrunch slightly.

“Seriously?”

“Yup, they’re really protective about their Wi-Fi.”

“Who's ‘they?”

“The library gods.” A smirk forms on the librarian's lips and Lucas takes a minute the process both the look and the comment.

“…that was a really bad joke.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

Fuck, he is.

His lips open slightly as he self-realizes his expression before quickly trying to save himself.

“Because it’s so stupid.” He comments simply, and the librarian responds with a smile, nodding his head like he understands something, but Lucas doesn’t know exactly what he understands.

Nonetheless, the librarian exits from his post behind the desk, pushing open a small door at the side Lucas failed to notice, before walking over to him, looking at him expectantly. Lucas, taken aback by the sudden proximity, allows his eyes to widen for a moment before his brain catches up to him and deciphers the man’s unasked question.

“Right.” He walks past the librarian back towards his desk, hands shoved into his hoodie pocket once again, but hood down. The librarian, he assumes, is following behind him, and Lucas tilts his head down bashfully, because just the cheer closeness is causing him to be flustered. The librarian, in comparison to Lucas, is walking confidently, arms swinging slightly as he strides although, on him, the action looks casual, and in a way, charming. How he does that, Lucas cannot fathom. “This is it.”

The librarian looks around Lucas desk space, the slightly ajar laptop, next to an open textbook, and smaller notebook, which both have highlighter marks on them, and various unwrapped, half-opened protein bars, some of the various ones Yann shoved into his backpack as he left this morning. Lucas keeps his head tilted down slightly as the man scopes his area, timid and nervous for whatever judgment is going on inside the boys head. If that previous interaction wasn’t embarrassing enough, then Lucas messy space is probably enough for the man to conclude that Lucas is a messy heathen.

However, the man doesn’t move really, and since his head is tilted towards the desk and Lucas towards the floor, he cannot read the expression on the man’s face. So, Lucas just has to guess.

“This it?” The man asks, turning around to face Lucas and gesturing towards his desk space.

“Why else would we have been standing here for the last minute?” Lucas replies dryly, but the man only smiles in response.

“You’ve gone to the wrong space before.” Oh, this cheeky bastard.

“Hey!” Lucas responds with a quiet hiss, trying to scold the man into getting rid of the cheeky grin that is now present on his lips, but it doesn’t budge, and Lucas is trying not to allow his blush to grow anymore. But, god its genuinely impossible.

He doesn’t know if they’re making a scene, but they are the only two people standing in a quiet library, full of frustrated students attempting to study and finish assignments, while they are quietly bantering with each other about an honestly childish topic. Its banter, it really is, but Lucas doesn’t want to stop it. Maybe it’s because it is a distraction from his assignment. Maybe it is just because Lucas gets to converse with the man who makes his heart flutter whenever he’s around, with his wide grin and techno-colored eyes. Who’s to say?

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop.” The man finally states, grinning at Lucas stance, shoulders pushed back and neck stretched up, legs spread slightly as he extends himself towards the librarian who calmly looks down at him. Lucas’s eyebrows are knitted slightly and a slight scowl is present on his lips, but it isn’t bitter, he doesn’t mean it in that sense, and he hopes that the librarian understands that. Whether he does or not, Lucas doesn’t know, because right after he stops speaking, the librarian turns back towards the computer and pulls out the chair, legs stepping so that he could hover over the seat.

Okay, Lucas is just going to have to stand there, fine. Whatever.

But, the librarian never stops to take a seat, instead of moving until he is on the other end of the seat, getting on his knees and resting his elbows crossed on the desk, his face resting on their crook and tilted towards Lucas. He smiles at him, expectantly, and Lucas has to take a second to comprehend how adorable the man looks like this, hair fell slightly onto his face and eyes looking up at him widely before he takes a seat. He’s slow in his movements, almost as if he is calculating the situation as he interacts with it, eyes staring directly at the man’s even after he sits down.

“Ok…ay.” Lucas turns back to his computer, movements slightly rigid since his heart is too busy increasing in speed rather than focusing on completing these motions like a normal human being. He pushes open his ajar laptop screen, finger swiveling on the touch pad until the screen pops up, and typing in his password all the while the man is watching him, a soft smile still present on his face, but a bit more subtle. By now, Lucas wonders if a smile is just the man’s default emotion, which is bad for Lucas, since every time he sees it, a blush appears on his face. “Here it is,” Lucas says plainly, not trusting himself to properly articulate any emotion other than embarrassment and entrance.

“Cool.” The man lifts his head from its place on his arms and pulls the laptop towards himself, going into the side tab and clicking on the library Wi-Fi. He enters in a few letters, but then his eyes find themselves at Lucas, forming a glare, almost comical, and Lucas looks back confused

‘What?” He asks, defensively.

“Don’t look..” The man accuses and Lucas rolls his eyes almost automatically, looking back at the librarian unamused. The man’s glare quickly fades and is replaced by soft eyes and his playful smile, as he quickly finishes typing in the password, waiting for it to process, before smiling at the screen accomplished. “All complete.” He says proudly, turning the computer around to show Lucas before pushing it towards the boy. Lucas deadpans at the man’s actions, shaking his head slightly before opening up the internet browser, sighing in content when the search engine appears. Ah, good ole’ Google.

“Thanks.” Lucas throws out nonchalantly, already pulling up YouTube before the man could even respond. The librarian pauses for a second, looking between Lucas and the computer before his gaze goes sideways as if he is pondering. Pondering of what, Lucas doesn’t know, and he hopes that his focus on the laptop screen reads off as him not caring, when he really wants to know what the hell is passing through the man’s head.

Suddenly, the man shuffles towards Lucas, and Lucas knows that the man saw how his body jolted at the sudden proximity. But, he doesn’t seem to acknowledge it, instead, reading the title of the video Lucas pulls up.

“Oh yeah, you don’t know how to write an essay, college student.” The man teases Lucas, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow as he reads out loud the title of the video Lucas clicked on. Lucas glares back at the man, his tone defensive as he speaks.

“I just want to get it right.”

“But you went to high school.”

“So!” Lucas is aware that he shouted that last response, not too loud that everyone turns around to look at him, but some of the people in his area glance up, and Lucas cowers down in embarrassment. He then quickly recovers to glare at the man next to him, who seems to be amused by his reaction, snickering into the crook of his elbow that is still perched on the desk. “Fuck you.” Lucas hisses, this time significantly quieter, but the man still laughs.

“I’m kidding; I’m kidding.” He crinkled eyes begin to soften as he stops laughing, wide smile falling into a content one, and eyes scanning Lucas’s slightly agitated expression. “Do you want help?”

Help?

“Help? With what?” Lucas asks, not connecting the question and context since he is too busy living in the afterglow of his embarrassing action.

“With your essay. Construction-wise.”

“What are you? An English major?”

“Yeah.”

Oh.

“Oh.” Lucas face of ridicule quickly breaks into one of surprise, taken aback by this new information. “You go here?”

“What, do I look that old?” The librarian snickers, which Lucas shakes his head to, immediately.

“No! It’s just, I don’t know I just thought you worked here for fun and that maybe you went somewhere else.”

“You thought all of that?”

Lucas has thought a lot about him since their encounter yesterday, all the way from his sudden departure from the library up until he finished his introduction late last night. For some reason, when he was pondering upon the librarian’s dusty hair and the feeling of his breath on his ear, he hadn’t considered the fact that maybe that man was an actual student. At least now it's confirmed.

“I mean well…” Lucas doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because the librarian has already pulled the laptop towards himself, shifting his knees so he’s closer to the desk and, as a result of Lucas, which gives him an excuse to examine his features, but it is not like he would. At least, up to this close when the man can see him.

“Is that it?” The man asks the white mouse on the computer hovering over Lucas word document, which Lucas quickly nods to. When he gets the conformation, the librarian opens up the document and immediately, his eyes start scanning his introduction. Lucas, slightly taken aback and suddenly nervous, patiently waits for him to finish, slouching back slightly in his chair so to give the man more room, and in turn, keep him sane since he isn’t so close to him. The man reads fast, Lucas presumes, because he hears a quiet hum come from the man’s lips before his head turns around to face the suddenly moved Lucas, nodding his head once. “’ It’s not bad, the introduction, I mean.” Lucas nods in acknowledgment and thanks. “You just need to establish a strong thesis and you can honestly go from there.”

Thesis, right.

“Oh, yeah.” Lucas agrees, moving forward so he’s closer to his laptop because well, he does still have a paper to write and he shouldn’t let an attractive man distract him from it. Even though it is very difficult. “But this isn’t a thesis paper so should it matter?”

“It still helps make a strong essay, thesis paper or not. What is your topic?”

“Cell mutation and modification.”

“Do you know how you’re going to ease them into the topic?”

“I don’t know, show them some of the statistics I’ve found?”

“That’s a start,” the man nods, smiling at Lucas before turning back to his desk. “Do you have them?”

“The stats? Oh, they’re in my folder.” Lucas is already digging through his bag before the man has said anything, quickly pulling out a plastic blue folder before handing it to him. The man takes it and opens it, eyes looking over the notes as Lucas waits for him eagerly. He doesn’t respond for a few seconds. “….what?”

“….”

“Dude?”

“….you’re handwriting is atrocious.” He’s snickering again, and Lucas is quickly pulled out of his focus and eager mindset.

“You are the goddamn worst.”

“I’m sorry, but is that an ‘d’ or an ‘l’?”

“It’s in cursive!”

“Oh, that just makes it worse.”

Lucas tries to grab it from the man’s hands, flustered and annoyed at how he has quickly shifted from his serious tone, reverting to his usual ways of embarrassing Lucas over whatever is in his presence. However, the man reacts quicker, tilting back and moving the folder up above his head, creating the perfect space for Lucas’ body to lose its balance, fall forwards, and crash into the man’s chest. The man doesn’t fall, though, just slightly exhaling at the impact, as Lucas's face crashes abruptly into the softness of the man’s turtleneck, skin tickled slightly by its fabric.

For a second, neither of them move, frozen by the sudden contact and taken aback by how quickly it has all happened. Lucas, with his face pressing against the man’s chest, honestly doesn’t know how to react or move, so for a few seconds he doesn’t. He allows himself to feel the warmth radiating from the man’s chest and collar, the top of his head tucked somewhat under the man’s neck, chin grazing the back of his head, the slight beard lightly scratching his scalp. The man doesn’t move, standing sturdy and allowing Lucas to stay still.

Which Lucas doesn’t allow himself to, jolting backward until he is back in his chair, and quickly seats himself so he is facing the laptop. He doesn’t acknowledge the quiet snicker leaving he man’s mouth as he lowers his raised hands and folder back down, opening it up once again to pull the papers from the slots.

“Clumsy..” He whispers under his breath and Lucas is so close smacking him, but the kind eyes the man throws in his direction softens his bite, so instead, he just scoffs playfully.

“Don’t move so fast.”

“You should have been focused on your assignment, Lallemant.”

Lucas smile falters slightly when he hears his name, but the librarian doesn’t react at all, so he allows it to pass by unnoticed.

Oh wait, his name is on the paper. Lucas, you're a fucking dumbass.

“Okay, so we can start by using this statistic here, which is still quite general, but that works in your benefit because you can go into broader detail explaining what it describes and its significance.” Lucas pulls the notebook stray on his desk closer to himself, writing down everything that the librarian tells him, following his suggestions. “Then, you can probably throw in the needed facts there. Are you going to start with the modification or mutation portion first?”

“Mutation and then how modification can alter that.”

“Are you focusing mainly on the negative effects of mutation?”

“Yeah.

“Good boy.”

“Shut up.”

They’re in a bubble, Lucas and the man, a bubble of playfulness but comfort, a whimsical feeling of giddiness that both relaxes Lucas but jolts him, every neuron in his body reacting and then deflating in the most pleasant form possible. Usually, he would dismiss people who tease him so much, throwing a scoff or hiss in their direction before finding another, a less irritating mean of solving his problem. But, with him, he wants to continue; he wants to banter, he wants the man to keep looking at him, glancing at him, smiling at him and teasing him. He watches as the man reads over his notes, eyes focused as it scans his highlighted texts and sloppily written annotation, fair falling onto his face as he helps Lucas structure what point to add next or what grammar mistake to correct.

Lucas doesn’t admit it out loud, but there are moments where his focus does astray, but it doesn’t go too far, instead, focusing on how the man’s fingers lightly graze the pages of his textbook, or lips smile when Lucas makes a snarky comment, and he sometimes lets himself mull on how he can feel his stare on him when Lucas is typing in a sentence or quote. Lucas doesn’t point it out, but his body does react slightly when the man’s fingers accidentally brush against his from time to time, sending signals to Lucas's brain, causing him to go into autopilot for a few seconds as he reveals in the feeling of his soft fingers.

Somehow, now he’s worried that the paper will turn out worse because Lucas is definitely not focusing on it tonight.

Holy shit he is so gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are very appreciated, but like you guys are always sweet <3


	3. wednesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahah...hey
> 
> im sorry it's been such a long time but AHHHH stuff happens.
> 
> tell me what you think! more is to come!
> 
> (unedited, will edit later. sorry for any grammatical mistakes seen.)

How can it be too loud in the library?

Should it not be common knowledge, if not a rule, to not speak loudly in the library? 

Lucas, forcing himself to read over the last paragraph of the page in the textbook over again, bites the inside of his cheek out of frustration. For a moment, his fingers hover over the keyboard, Lucas’ eyes fall from the screen, rolling his head to the side in defeat as his posture slumps, leaning forward until his head is hovering over the laptop. It’s Wednesday, which means he has only two more days after this to finish the assignment, and only a few more hours until he spirals into an utter mess and throws his computer against a very old and expensive book case across from him. 

The loud shriek of a chair being dragged against the floor makes him jolt slightly, right before he clenches his eyes at the sound, the sounding worsening his already-present hangover by forcing himself to cringe intensely. After yesterday, which entailed of several excruciating hours of non-stop thesis writing, looking through highlighted notes, researching even further into topics he didn't even know he had to include because  _ Lucas is an idiot and didn’t realize there was a second page to the assignment _ , and accidentally crashing into a brown-haired librarian with technicoloreyes, Lucas needed to drink. So, he opened up his cabinet last night, waved passively to Basile, Arthur, and Yann who were playing FIFA, and drank up the rest of the bottle of cheap wine that Manon brought over because  _ anything will do _ . 

Well, it didn’t do enough, so Lucas went back to their kitchen, ignored the boys initial calls, yanked out clumsily a bottle of tequila, stole a slice of Basile’s pizza, and went back into his room.

Now, he has a hangover.

But, hey, at least he has almost finished the paragraph he is working on. Well, almost, if he wasn’t distracted by the group of students laughing in the back of a library. How they aren’t currently being kicked out is a mystery to Lucas, but at the same time, a complete pain in the ass. He is so close to banging his head against his laptop screen, Hereditary style. 

He jumps again when he feels a tap on his shoulder, and if the students around him glare at him when his chair squeaks as he moves, so fucking be it. 

“Oh, sorry!” Its whispered, but Lucas can see in the man’s eyes that he is sincerely sorry and now just realizing the weight of his actions. His eyes fixate on the hovering hand that Lucas presumes was tapping his shoulder a few seconds ago before he wills himself to look back up and face the librarian again. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You just looked dazed…” He looks so timid for a second that Lucas forces himself to calm down and respond as nonchalantly as he can. 

“Snnnmm, hangover and people loud.” He slurs this, laying his head on his keyboard, which inevitably lead to various unorderly letters to type themselves onto Lucas’s paper, but he decides to ignore it in favor of watching the librarians concerned eyes shift into a teasing one, w smirk coupled with his new expression.

“Hangover?”

“Rosé and tequila.”

“Uh-huh, and that’s supposed to help you with your essay?” Lucas scoffs faintly.

“It's too loud here anyways. Even if I wasn’t hungover, I wouldn’t be able to focus.” Lucas watches the librarian scrunch his forehead, and then the librarian looks off as if he has entered his headspace and isn’t present there with Lucas, only to come back with a sudden smile and wider eyes. 

“Can I see your phone please?” Now it’s Lucas’ turn to scrunch his forehead.

“Huh?” He asks, confused by the sudden sentiment. 

“I know a way to help you.” The librarian has his hand out in front of Lucas, who looks between it and the man’s face slightly disoriented, not knowing exactly what the man wants. However, since Lucas is tired and the man’s soft smile relaxes him, Lucas reaches over to the left of his laptop and pick up his phone, cautiously handing it to the librarian, who rolls his eyes at Lucas’s actions. Before the librarian brings the phone up closer to his face, he turns it back towards Lucas, lock screen bright and glaring. “Password?” Lucas exhales in memory.

“2121.” Lucas replies, and the man contently brings the phone up to himself, punching in the numbers with his thumb before sliding through Lucas’s phone, searching through the screen until he found what he was looking for. Then, the librarians typing again, and after a bit more scrolling, seems to have found what he is searching for. He then flips the phone around so it is facing upwards towards Lucas and brings it down to his eye-level. 

The screen reveals an open Spotify page, and on it is a playlist, with a black and white drawn piano that seems to be breaking apart on the top and with the title “Eliott’s Songs For His Raccoon Friends.” Lucas looks up at the librarian.

“That you?” The librarian just beans at Lucas, crinkled eyes and teeth and all, and Lucas is too entranced by it to react properly. However, when the librarian nods, Lucas snaps out of him.

“Mhm,” he confirms.

Eliott.

Lucas doesn’t say it right now, but he can imagine that the name probably rolls smoothly off the tongue, leaves him satisfied yet charmed. To a boy he mostly commonly associates bookshelves and technicolored eyes, it makes sense.

_ Eliott. _

“I listen to music when I need to focus, when I want to relax, ya know.”

“Right, like regular people.” Lucas counters, to which Eliott looks at him unimpressed before cracking his usual smile. 

“How far have you gotten with your essay?” He asks, gesturing his head towards the open laptop that Lucas has forgotten about. Right, essay.

“Three paragraphs.”

“Hey, that isn’t that bad!”

“Of nine.”

“Oh, oof.” The librarian winces playfully, looking down at Lucas with slight sympathy, only to look back up and around the area. Lucas takes that second to admire Eliott, the way his frame is perfectly displayed in his knitted brown sweater that is perfectly tucked in his dark-grey jeans, belt displayed by the way the man is leaning back with his hands tucked in his jeans pockets. So, he’s a librarian but also has jumped straight out of a Donna Tart novel? 

The fact that Lucas can even remember the name of that specific author with a hangover surprises him. 

“Ahh, thanks for the playlist by the way.” Lucas says, lifting his phone up slightly as if to solidify it. Eliott chuckles.

“No problem, but seriously. It helps, music, for me personally for essay writing, or assignments in general. Well, I’ve never had difficulty writing essays anyways.”

“Must be nice..” Lucas groans, and Eliott just shakes his head playfully. 

“No, it's like, we write them all the time, so it doesn’t bother me at all.” He then looks at Lucas sympathetically for a second, scanning around the area, and when they hear a sharp laugh that comes from the right side of the room, they both flinch. 

“Also it’s really fucking loud.” Lucas hisses, laying his head sideways on the wooden table, looking up at a chuckling Eliott. “Stop laughing! It is.” 

“No, no, I agree.” Eliott nods, looking over to wear the sound came from, probably some freshman who got too drunk or too high and has no barriers to contain his laughter. Whatever. “I should probably tell them to keep quiet.”

“Ahh, can you?” Lucas whines, looking up at Eliott with pleading eyes. However, when he meets them, Eliott’s technicolor eyes, his expression falls and he is again mesmerized by the man in front of him. Eliott, tall and grand, looking down at Lucas like an angel ready to save him, makes Lucas forget how to think for a second. Forget his assignment, forget his hangover, forget Imane’s taunting texts for starting his assignment early. 

Lucas can feel the tiny gap between his lips, the small puffs of breath coming in and out as all his focus is being dedicated to Eliott and his hands, that, must to Lucas’s awareness, are coming closer to his face. Suddenly, he feels a palm cover his ear, and another sliding under his cheek, slightly raising his head as it presses against his other ear, covering them both. If he wasn’t paying so much attention to Eliott at that moment, he wouldn’t have seen Eliott’s lips exhale, opening up as his chest compresses slightly. Holy fuck.

“It’s not too loud now, right?” Eliott whispers, and for the life of Lucas, he can't respond properly, so he nods dumbly, not moving his eyes from their place on Eliott’s face. 

“N-no.” 

“Good.” Eliott lets out a meek smile, shyly looking into Lucas eyes. For a second, Lucas felt Eliott’s finger moves slightly against his cheek, but Eliott’s hands were gone before he can ever register them, Eliott standing up straight before immediately shoving his hands into his jean’s pockets. Its tense, and Lucas feels as if his face is burning up and his heart is going to burst from their insistent palpitations, so he tries to go for a quick cover.

“I also need caffeine.” Eliott’s eyes snap back at him when Lucas says this.

“Huh?”

“For my fatigue.” He pauses for a second. “And my hangover.” To this, Eliott chuckles again, shaking his head at Lucas’s answer before leaning a bit to focus on him.

“I can get you some, if you want.” Oh?

“Hot or iced?” Eliott raises an eyebrow.

“We have hot. Iced requires me to go to a cafe to buy you one.” When Lucas doesn't interject only jutting out his bottom lip slightly, Eliott lets out an exhale in playful disbelief. “You want me to go to a cafe just to get you coffee.”

“Yes.” It's in the most simple, childlike manner Lucas can deliver, and guessing from Eliott’s pause and no objection to be heard, he takes it as a win. 

“You’re a baby.” Eliott laughs, and unless Lucas’s tired mind is playing tricks on him, he could have sworn for a second ELiott’s face looked fond. With what had happened a few seconds ago, that wouldn’t have been an unreasonable inquiry; however, if Lucas ponders too much on that, his face would burn embarrassment, his heart burst from heavy beating, and his mind explode from overuse. So, he just gives Eliott his toothiest smile.

“And?”

“How sweet do you like you coffee?” Eliott asks, smiling.

“Cream. No sugar.”

With that, Eliott turns to leave, looking over his shoulder one last time at Lucas before giving him a single wave. “Get working on your essay, Lucas Lallemant.”  _ He remembers. _

“Go get me caffeine, Eliott!” Lucas rolls his eyes, lifts his head from the table, pulls out his head phones and plugs them into the still open spotify page on his phone, clicking shuffle on the playlist.

Eliott, huh.

_ ‘Smoking cigarettes on the roof…’ _

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy they know names now.
> 
> heres the link to eliott's playlist
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/79GpbLkE3JGhe0ExQ3oR92?si=VTQJtb1aR3S-NmtVrVZXPQ

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated <3


End file.
